holding hands while the world comes crashing down
by musichettta
Summary: In a world of soulmates and rebellions, Beatrice Prior just wants to stay out of everyone's way. But when she discovers she has a soulmate, she's whisked away to the anti-soulmate radicals of Dauntless by a mysterious boy, and Tris has to decide where her loyalties lie. Can she make it out of the chaos alive? And what is it that makes her so special? /fourtris musicish soulmate au
1. I

It is just another day, quiet and enclosed, when the first song hits. My head shoots up on its own, because this only happens to people who aren't me, and everything is much too simple, much too normal, for this to be happening. But the notes are persistent, and I cannot help but mouth the words, and that is how Jeanine Matthews finds me, sitting dazed in a classroom on a day where everything was supposed to be normal, listening valiantly for my soulmate, understanding without trying that nothing will ever be the same again.

Jeanine, who controls most soulmate systems here in Chicago but should have no interest in me, drags me home, hissing in my ear what goes without saying—write it down write it down write it down. The ten songs I will inevitably hear, if I ever find my soulmate, will click instantly with them, and theirs with me. It is how it has always been.

Jeanine is here to oversee the supposedly foolproof system because every once and a while, a group of blinded radicals want to be able to choose—make their own decisions. What should be a brainless decision to trust the tried and true system becomes a symbol for throwing your life away, I am told by the local rebels. What I believe and what I am told are two different things. Why fight what is not harmful in the first place?

The rebels, lead by the ruthless Four, are going to bring us all down.

Even so, I had never wanted to meet my soulmate until the notes start to play, an insistent barrage of sounds coming from seemingly nowhere that are simultaneously addictive and terrifying.

For Jeanine, this should be a satisfying experience, a sign that what she has worked tirelessly for is happening flawlessly, but she seems to be almost furious at the occurrence of my soultrack.

I throw my head back recklessly as the song concludes and fail to grasp why Jeanine has decided that I am the demise of soulmates when it appears I have one.

* * *

_Report Filed By: Cara Marie Davis of Erudite Incorporated_

_Source: Abnegation Video Cameras, 17:39, West End_

_Tobias Eaton [alias Four], dangerous misguided "rebel" is spotted clutching his head on the top of a council member's—not his father's—house. Scanners picked up no illegal substances on him but did find a parcel that could be concealing a gun. Eaton, who disappeared from his assigned faction one year ago (two months before he was scheduled to pick a new one), was wearing traditional Dauntless clothing. Recorders picked up muttered phrases such as "not now", "inconvenient", "father" and "who" [the entirety of his monologue or conjoining words were to jumbled to make sense of by our machines. There will be more to come when the words are deciphered]. Eaton left the camera's viewpoints at 17:44, presumably off the premises._

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**I am a suckish person I know (excuse: exams) so here *shoves soulmate au at you aggressively*. Anyway, this will update every day or so (yay!) and will be about ten to twenty short chapters instead of an incredibly long one-shot. I own nothing you recognize, and do not steal this idea from me. :) I would love at least five reviews to continue.**

**q: Songs you would think would be on Tris's soultrack?**

**review, review, review!**


	2. II

II.

As I walk down the ever-silent alley to get to my house, my outward appearance does little to mask my inner catastrophe. I suppose one looking at me from afar would see a petite straw haired girl holding a satchel on her shoulder, dawdling and weak, but a closer look would reveal shaking palms and darting eyes. I know how to defend myself; you have to in the world we live in today. Only one in five people get their soultrack and even less find their soulmate, and crimes and discrimination sprouted from jealousy are not uncommon.

Of course, no one would ever suspect plain, forgettable Beatrice Prior of having a soulmate, even though word spreads quickly. This saves me; this infuriates me. I suppose I should be grateful for the cover my personal ambiance gives me, but I cannot help yearning to prove them all wrong, to show I am exactly the kind of girl to have a soulmate.

The wind races around me, going places Beatrice Prior will probably never go. But I do not have to be Beatrice Prior of the Abnegation faction, remembered only for her quiet, willing, unresisting yet not quite selfless nature. I will not be walked over like everyone in my faction without even being a real part of my faction. Wouldn't a real member of Abnegation never question blending in? Is it abnormal, feeling hurt when you are underestimated? My mother would say that underestimation gives you the overhand, but besides, we should not care what others think of us; it is selfish.

I want more than that.

I want my strength, though I do not know what it is, not really, to be recognized.

A noise emanates from a window down the street and it shocks my thoughts into stopping their sprint as I scurry into my house.

* * *

_Report Filed By: Fernando Jose Curran, investigative journalist at the Erudite Gazette_

_Source: Recorded by Eric Alexander Kingston of Dauntless Incorporated_

_Trusted Dauntless member Eric Kingston recorded a conversation between suspected Dauntless rebels Amar Cole and Tobias "Four" Eaton during which the two exchanged no veritable evidence that they were indeed in cahoots with any radicals but did offer valuable information to Erudite Incorporated: The rebels had planned to stage an attack on 5/29 that Cole and Eaton disapproved of. It was "too risky", as the former explained, probably because he felt as if "[he] wouldn't get any credit for it" as Kingston speculates. What remains to be seen is how much faith Erudite Inc. can truly have in Kingston if they are willing to discredit two highly valued Dauntless Members on his guesswork of their intentions. Kingston also offered a testimonial of his firm belief that "they could not possibly be innocent", as he stated to Erudite Inc. quite assuredly._

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**chapter two my loves (the next chapters are longer I swear)**

**review, review, review!**


	3. III

This is not the first time I feel the sensation of being watched, but it certainly is the first time it feels almost…human. I learned about the cameras watching us some time ago and have since then learned to be discreet in my small acts of defiance, but this gaze does not have a cold mechanical feel; I suppose one cannot measure that, but I still feel oddly assured that it is not an Erudite monitor. It may be a stupid decision, but I relax for what may be the first time in months.

I immediately regret the decision when a warm whiff of breath hits my neck. I jump in my seat and shudder before turning around.

Standing behind me, clad in black, is a boy, about sixteen. He has strong shoulders, a hooked nose, and light bronze skin. The mask—black—hides my view of the exact color of his eyes, not that my height would enable me to see them otherwise, but I can make out a murky, mysterious, deep-ocean blue.

I refrain from breathing in rapidly and instead wonder why this boy seems familiar and, at the same time, does not scare me. By all accounts, this impressionable, dangerous young man should scare me; I should not be taking this calmly. Is my newfound bravery rooted in curiosity?

"What's your name?" the boy asks me in an almost bored tone, as if I am just another thing to check off of his to do list. Even though he probably means nothing by it, I can feel my eyes narrowing.

"What's yours?" I respond, trying keep my tone polite and calm, as tough there isn't a tall, dark, potentially life threatening stranger attempting to make small talk with me. My surroundings are typical Abnegation—gray, torn, yet holding on. I could be anywhere. Maybe my conversational partner doesn't know the area as well as I do, maybe I can escape.

But why would I? Why should I?

The boy opens his mouth to answer, then closes it just as abruptly, looking almost...apologetic. "Sorry," he says, frowning. "Can't talk here, though." He nonchalantly hands me a piece of paper, like we're study partners in school or something of the like, except he's wearing clothing that's almost absolutely prohibited here and I must look incredibly uncomfortable.

"Beatrice!" A voice shouts from a simple, gray house. I turn out of instinct towards the sound, regretting it instantly now that the stranger seems to be impressed by my name. He mouths it once appreciatively and I turn around with closed eyes back towards the house.

"Are you all right?"

I see plain, sweet Susan, giving up some of her precious allotted knitting time to check if I am safe. It occurs to me that the thing she loves to do is always for someone else, and sometimes it does not get completed because she is so busy helping others. I try to find at least one memory of me being this selfless, of being anything but indifferent towards her, but come up with nothing; like sand slipping through my fingers, instances of my holding doors pale in comparison to the time my family and friends and neighbors must spend worrying about me.

Or am I being selfish, appreciating their efforts to help? It is a vicious circle, being selfless. Even if you spend all of your life being selfless and it does come back to help you in the end, you must never appreciate or share it. It strikes me now how much I cannot do this anymore.

"I'm fine, Susan."

I am not fine.

She gives me a hesitant smile and backs into her house, hopefully dismissing my behavior without a second thought.

I turn with relief and terror consuming both sides of my subconscious and see the boy, leaning up against a wall. I lean next to him, and we do not talk.

After a while, he says "Four."

"Four?" I ask, tracing the number on my leg absentmindedly. "Why Four?"

"It's my name," Four says, and crooks up a corner of his mouth at me, amused. "I thought you'd be smarter than that, Beatrice."

My name, coming from this dangerous boy's mouth, sounds foreign, unwelcome.

I do not fault Four for this; he is not the problem, not really.

"Actually, I like to be called—"

"Choose wisely," Four says staring at my face like he recognizes something. I try to keep from blushing. "I'll call you whatever you pick forever."

So he can tell I will go with him. It is a horrible, disastrous choice.

Nothing has felt more right.

"Tris," I decide.

Tris is not Abnegation. Tris is a rebel.

I will be a terrible rebel; I do not believe in their cause; I have a soulmate.

But Tris will be able to try.

Four's face remains blank when he offers, "Coming?"

All of my preparation still does not prepare me for the real thing. I inhale sharply, remembering where I am, who I am.

A "yes" manages to escape my lips before I cripple to the ground with my fourth song pounding in my ears.

* * *

_Report Filed By: Jeanine Matthews, Erudite Representative and Head of Erudite Incorporated_

_Source: Andrew Philip Prior, Natalie Wright Prior, and Susan Phoebe Black_

_Beatrice Hannah Prior has disappeared. She was last seen by neighbor Susan Black, who was inconsolable by the time authorities reached her. There were no signs of kidnapping although the young Prior had shown no aptitude of dissatisfaction with her family or situation. Prior had been a token of interest to the soulmate department for reasons involving the abnormal strength in her soulbond sensed by Erudite's machines. Black reported seeing Prior with a strange "dark" man about an hour before her absence was first reported by her parents. This missing child case is almost parallel to one a year ago involving Tobias Eaton, and many are investigating a connection between the two. Authorities are looking for her at the moment and encourage other factions to do the same._

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**happy pi day I suppose. here's chapter 3. it's quite long for this story which is kinda pitiful but whatever. expect an update soon!**

**review, review, review!**


	4. IV

Christina is loud, cynical, honest, thoughtful, and quite fairly nothing like I expected my first friend to be like. That's what she is, isn't she? Susan, who was a very sweet girl, knows next to nothing about me. I know nothing about her. I suppose they are frantic, searching for me, but I could not stay. Not anymore.

Four has suggested making a report to clear up my absence, to cease my parent's worry and the attack they seem to be getting from Erudite, but I cannot tell the radicals I have a soulmate. They seem to distrust me enough, with my puzzled questions aimed at their resistance and all.

The only person who could possibly have suspicions is Four, who saw me collapse. I refused to speak with him on the issue, pursing my lips and staying silent, and he seemed to have gotten the message.

The funny thing is that I almost feel at home here.

Chris is a part of the rebellion, constantly shouting that she can 'love whomever she freaking chooses and if it isn't her soulmate then tough luck'. Will is almost the opposite, waiting for his songs almost wistfully while rolling his eyes at any mention of revolution. Al is hesitant to do anything, and seems as out of place here as I do.

I am part of the rebellion as well, it seems. I am unwilling, but I am part of it.

Four frustrates and intrigues me at the same time. He comes up with ideas, such as the one to host meetings under a façade of initiation training, and send away anyone uninterested in the "cause".

I do not deny the hilarity of an indignant Will and a confused Al being turned away at the door with a raised eyebrow and a "What initiation training?" from Four. Chris can barely contain her snorts when the door is slammed for the third time in Will's face as he protests. Afterwards, they will have to put up with hours of interrogation and speculation from the boys—mostly Will—completely silent, as per the agreement with the radicals.

It may be worth it, I think, just to see Four light up a little more than usual. The smiling almost transforms his face; his features become less intense, and he displays a kind of vulnerability that makes him easier to like, but he remains just as much as a mystery as before.

"What do you think, Tris?" Tori asks me suddenly. I blink, silently cursing myself for getting off track. The only way to stay protected in Dauntless is to have the trust of the rebels, who make up so much more of it than you'd ever expect.

"What do I think about the…" I start, hoping some kind soul will prompt me with the question.

"What do you think about _Amity's view on soulbonds, _genius," Christina deadpans, but she doesn't sound exasperated.

I draw myself up, hoping to give the impression that I had been listening, or at least cared. "They picture them as ideal, and it unsettles the so-called harmony they focus on, so they throw their drugged bread at it. Amity hasn't learned that people with soulmates or soulbonds are not better than people without; they're not purer or more romantic, more passionate. Personally, I think soulbonds…" I search the vaguely intrigued crowd for Four's face instinctively before finding the right words. "Soulbonds are a state of mind. If the songs are supposed to fit, then you feel like they should fit, and they typically will. Also, if you really love someone, why isn't it as good as a soulmate bond that might turn…abusive?"

Four's face disappears, but the others make appreciative noises.

Amar, who I later learn faked his own death a few years back but returned in secrecy, continues the discussion. I glance around. Most people seem virtually unaffected by my words, which I understand, but others are looking pensive.

Although I do not see the appeal in my opinion today, it feels nice to be valued and taken seriously.

* * *

When we are walking back down the musty, fluorescently lit cave hallways, Chris takes on a serious look. "Where did that come from?" she says, frowning a little. "You never struck me as particularly invested in…whatever we're doing."

I stare down at my shoes, careful not to show my dismay. "I thought I'd contribute a little this time."

We continue to tread back in silence, and I swallow uncomfortably, eyes darting around as if searching for a new topic to chat about.

"Did you know that Amar once had a soulmate?" Christina says suddenly, blurting the words out as if the guilt of telling what is so obviously supposed to be a secret will only last as long as it takes to spill. It is clear she has been itching to share, and I mentally thank God for whoever taught this girl to be open.

"What?" I ask her finally after a dumbfounded minute. "_Amar_?" Is he not the head of the whole movement? I have witnessed firsthand the fire in his eyes while he talks about overthrowing the entire concept, about not letting fate conquer us.

Chris's eyes sparkle with stories to tell. "I heard his soulmate was Tori's brother, but they agreed to never meet because they both hated the idea of soulmates. Except…Amar fell in love. With him—George, even though they never really saw each other. And when George died…"

We fall into another bout of silence; only this one is thoughtful, filled with the weight of issues far bigger than us. It is not uncomfortable, it is pensive.

When I finally break it, it is because I am offering a peace of wisdom my father had taught me, however indirectly. My voice is quiet, trembling, almost, because this is important.

"I guess…no one can hate you with as much intensity as someone who used to love you."

As Will's voice comes barreling down—"Where have you _been?_ Again! _Jesus Christ_!"—Christina gives an almost pained smile to no one in particular.

"Yeah. I guess so."

* * *

_Reported By: Max Princeton, Head of Dauntless (Report Filed Two Years Ago)_

_Source: Dauntless Officials_

_George Wu was found dead on the bottom of the pit by apparent suicide this morning. Many are puzzled by this conclusion, seeing as Wu was "happy" and "successful" according to his sister, Tori Wu. Wu had experienced his soultrack but had not officially listed finding his soulmate or conducting a soulbond with the government. A funeral will take place tomorrow at the pit._

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**tris's lovely words about hatred and whatnot (which I shamelessly used to promote some willstina foreshadowing/backstory because I am trash) are from Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson's Greek Gods; I do not own them or take credit for them. and of course have some george/amar angst cause yay, pain. us shippers are incredibly sadistic, really. with ourselves. sigh.**

**annoyed pro!soulmate will am I right or am I right**

**anyway, hello! I'm always open for questions (that's what reviews are for, along with feedback, which I would really appreciate) so ask away.**


	5. V

The breeze tousles my hair like my father used to as I stare at the Chicago landscape from the glass roof of the pit. Uriah, a fellow radical, had shown me the place after a particularly harrowing experience where Amar had shouted about the practical uselessness and cruelty of soulmates. Uriah had sensed my discomfort; perhaps the hurt stance or the sour expression clued him in, and he had silently showed me the get away.

On a few occasions, I have seen others, but have never spoken to them. We are in inaudible agreement that this place is not for support. The support we need cannot be given in the form of insincere words of sympathy from fellow outliers; somehow the height and the isolation can supply what we need.

I know that I see it as an escape, a recluse, though others, such as Lynn, see it as another home.

There are phrases tattooed on the shattered sides of the dome, barely visible from inside the pit. _"i am not a place for cowards" _happens to be my favorite, displayed in white graffiti that appears as if it is still dripping, that it will be for eons past the memory of our names.

I am no place for cowards; I am a place for adrenaline rush, for acts of selfless bravery, for infinite moments, and never, never, never for cowards. Not anymore.

When I run to the roof through caving, twisted caverns ostensibly devoured by darkness that none in their right mind would explore without motive, the last thing I expect to see is Four, and I stand there feeling like a new shipment of drugs has just come in just when I promised to quit.

Lately, Four has left lingering, burning touches and I cannot keep my mind, which is supposed to be occupied with plans and strategies and training, off of making him smile, just to see it, to know that I caused a sliver of happiness.

A part of me will always be selfless, and that is not as terrible as some believe. But I did need that escape from him; from one of the reminders of where I came from, the one person in Dauntless that knows I have a soulmate.

The paper he had handed me that day in Abnegation I have tried hard to avoid in dreams had his address written on it in careful handwriting. It was the kind of writing that gave you the impression that it was generally sloppy for the plain reason of not enough time to take painstakingly straight strokes, but had tried quite hard this time. Not like any handwriting I had seen before, but still charming.

_In case you want to talk,_ was the unspoken message. But I do not need him.

(I certainly do want him, though.)

Four opens his mouth only to close it again. I smile, showing him that his decision was correct. Words are hard to decipher. I prefer actions.

We unconsciously start to relax.

Four begins gesturing towards a location, looking pensive as he does. I follow his well-defined arm to a blurry point on the horizon. _My old house,_ he mouths after a minute or so.

I jolt, becoming alert. While he was pointing at the skyline, I was staring at his hand.

These little actions are almost becoming habits; it is muscle memory to search for his face in a crowd.

I follow his arm to where his finger is pointing, confused when I end up at a gray, bland section.

Oh.

Four is from Abnegation.

I quickly scan him for hints that should have warned me. I was supposed to be extra wary, on the lookout for anything out of place. It is an incredible risk to be caught unawares when you are hiding a potential soulmate from the revolution.

Four had distracted me. Maybe to make up for my blind spot, I wonder, could he cover my back?

These are the thoughts that will get me into trouble one day; they are why I am so shocked now.

I quickly begin to notice what should have been obvious: the easily discernable Abnegation hair cut, the old limp from the lopsided shoes we were forced to wear, the gray eyes.

_Well?_ he mimes.

"I didn't know," I say after the initial shock passes.

"Yeah, that's sort of the whole point. Not much support for old Abnegation these days," he sighs, smiling dryly, "sticking to the old values or whatever they're doing."

We are quiet for a moment, staring at the horizon, perhaps assessing how well and truly messed up the situation we are in is.

Afterwards, I do not notice when he leaves, and I do not remember how I return back to my bed, tucked in tightly like my mother would do back in Abnegation.

* * *

_Report Filed By: Melinda Cravens of Abnegation, six years old [edited by Marco Delmar, Dauntless Guard]_

_Source: Myself_

_Today my mommy and daddy didn't come home. I want them to now, even though that's selfish. Mommy said before that some scary thing were happening but I should keep giving food to the poor, 'cause it wasn't fair that they were in that position, except now I might be too. I don't know why they were maybe hurt. They were soulmates that just wanted people to love each other. I'm scared. Are the bad people going to come for me, too?_

_Note by Marco Delmar__: No sign of the girl's parents. Highly suspecting jealous radicals behind this murder/kidnapping. The couple was last seen at their jobs, having been driven to work by Mark Black with his daughter Susan Black accompanying. A search has been conducted for Jacob Cravens, a highly respected member of office, and his wife Sophia Prior. No results worth mentioning were obtained. Melinda Cravens to live with the Prior family for the time being._

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**hah look at that i am physically capable of doing a story longer than four chapters. so there, fate.**

**_I am not a place for cowards_ are the words of the absolutely flawless Caitlyn Siehl.**

**what character do you want to see as caleb's soulmate?**

**review, review, review!**


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